


Longest way round is the shortest way home

by chaoticcollectorchaos_me



Series: Parabola [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Tony Stark, Poor attempts at humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 19:35:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16687639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaoticcollectorchaos_me/pseuds/chaoticcollectorchaos_me
Summary: “No scotch tonight?”“Nah, trying to cut down.”“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”“Uh...would you believe me if I say no?”Pregnancy shenanigans. That's it. That's the whole story.





	Longest way round is the shortest way home

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from "Ulysses" by James Joyce.

The news of Tony’s pregnancy spread like wildfire through the rest of the people living in the Tower. All it took was Natasha noticing that Tony had been forgoing his nightly two fingers of scotch during one of the movie nights.

 

“No scotch tonight?”

 

“Nah, trying to cut down.”

 

“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

 

“Uh...would you believe me if I say no?”

 

And just like that, the Avengers knew that Tony was expecting. They were ecstatic. Clint has been pestering him and Steve to name him the baby’s godfather; Natasha has been silently but persistently pushing old timey Russian remedies that were known to be good for pregnant omegas and their babies, like chicken feet soup that according to her would boost the baby’s intelligence (please, Tony’s gonna be this kid’s parent, there’s no way the kid was gonna turn out any way other than a genius) or some green leafy vegetables that she said would boost Tony’s milk production during lactation (and that was just...Tony had no words for that. He’d cross that bridge when he got to it).

 

Somehow, Thor managed to look even prouder than Steve for Tony’s pregnancy. Which was a feat in and of itself, considering Steve was the one who actually put the bun in the oven, so to speak. Thor kept insisting that his presence in the Tower was what made it possible for Tony to conceive as he was also known as the God of Fertility. Thor giving himself credit for a pregnancy not of his own making was only slightly weirder than Natasha giving him lactation soup.

 

Bruce took the pregnancy news in stride. Tony tried to make him his primary obstetrician, which was promptly shot down by both Bruce himself and Steve. Really, who would be better equipped than Bruce to handle a superhuman pregnancy? The man has superserum running through his veins too. Granted, it was the fucked up form of superserum that turned him to a green rage monster, but still. The point Tony tried to make was that Bruce would be more than capable of being an OBGYN. But he kept insisting that he still wasn’t that kind of doctor and that Tony should go to an actual OBGYN for his monthly checkups.

 

Pepper cried when they told her. She knew Tony better than he knew himself, and as such she always knew that for all Tony’s bluster about not needing anyone in his life, she knew that having a family to call his own was Tony’s deepest wish and desires. She hugged them both, and told Tony that under no circumstance should he be working overtime in the workshop and pointedly looked at Steve to make sure he understood and followed her mandate. Steve, for all that he was an Alpha supersoldier, wasn’t immune to the patented Potts stare down and reassured her that Tony would be keeping a more regular sleeping hour.

Rhodey was ecstatic and immediately made his case to be the baby’s godfather. Or at the very least, the baby’s namesake if they turned out to be a boy. Tony pretended to hemmed and hawed over it in front of him, but behind closed doors he and Steve had already been talking about the possibility of giving the baby their best friend’s shared first name as the baby’s middle name.

 

(“Hmm, I don’t know, Sourpuss. There are just so many other names to choose from.”

 

“I’ve been by your side since I was fourteen years old, Tony. I never complained even when you pulled the most outrageous shit in the history of the world. I deserve to have that baby named after me.”

 

“Alright, chillax, Platypus. Geez.”)

Not first name, of course. God knew Rhodey (and Barnes too apparently, according to Steve) would get cocky over it. And if Barnes ever came back to them, having him and Rhodey argued about who the baby was named after would be hilarious to say the least.

 

* * *

 

As far as first pregnancies went, Tony’s was pretty much par for the course. He had a mild case of morning sickness which abated once he got past the first trimester. His cravings were few and far in between and nothing too outrageous. Wendy’s Frosties and McDonald’s french fries were the bomb and as far as he was concerned they were the only basic food groups needed to sustain this pregnancy, no matter what Steve, Bruce or his obstetrician said. To appease them, Tony ate his prenatal vitamins, the chicken feet soup and the green vegetables they told him was good for the baby.

 

While there were some initial concerns on whether he’d be able to carry this pregnancy to term due to Tony’s advanced age (he’s old, he got it), the baby seemed to be hitting all the appropriate milestones. After the three month mark came and went and the probabilities of spontaneous miscarriage went down, everyone collectively breathed a sigh of relief. They were getting their pack baby after all.

 

So Tony’s morning sickness was gone, Steve was with him every step of the way and his pack was there too. Tony felt invincible. Well as invincible as a pregnant omega could be. He should have known that nothing in his life would be that easy.

 

He didn’t notice it at first, just chalked it up to one of those things that happened with pregnant people. Tony walked into the lounge at lunch time, starving after a full morning of meetings with SI’s board members. Steve, Natasha and Sam were gathered around the island in the kitchen eating lunch. Steve looked up from his lunch as he sensed Tony entering the kitchen and smiled brightly at his mate.

 

“Hi sweetheart,” he greeted, standing up to meet Tony, “how was the meeting?”

 

“The usual,” Tony said, “something something good of the company, bla bla bla profits this quarter. Something useless like that. Although I did notice an increase in people questioning my ability to make decisions. Did they think being pregnant somehow affect the way my brain functions?”

 

Steve shook his head in annoyance and dejection. The SI board members weren’t really known for their progressive stance toward gender roles. Some of them still maintained that an omega’s place was at home. After news of his and Steve’s mating broke, many of the board members tried to give Steve power of attorney over Tony, stating that as the Alpha he would be better equipped to make decisions logically. This move was quickly and efficiently squashed by Steve, with Steve making it clear once and for all that Stark Industries was Tony’s, not his, and as such Tony should be the only one making decisions about the company’s trajectory and future directions, not anybody else.

 

It seemed as though the board members were once again directing their passive aggressive _coup d’etat_ attempts by implying that pregnancy was somehow affecting Tony’s ability to work and function normally. God forbid they ever saw a high functioning omega.

 

“They were badgering me so much I had to cut the meeting short otherwise I won’t be held accountable for blasting a repulsor in their faces.” Tony heaved himself up unto one of the stools. The added baby weight was making it more difficult than usual to sit by the kitchen counter, but he’ll manage. In a couple more weeks, he’d probably need Steve to put him in a wheelbarrow and push him wherever he went. Hah, wouldn’t that be a sight.

 

“Tony, stop trying to climb the stool, and just sit on the couch. You’re scaring me.” Steve chastised him, his hand was pressed to the small of Tony’s back helping him up to the stool.

 

“But the food’s right here, Steve,” Tony pouted, “Mini Cap and I are starving.”

 

Steve sighed, “You’re not satisfied until you give me a heart attack, are you?” his tone was disapproving, but the light kiss he pressed to Tony’s pouting lips said otherwise.

 

“You knew that when you mated me.” Tony grinned cheekily. As he settled in, he took in the spread that was on the counter. It looked like Steve, Natasha and Sam went to Chinatown and got pan fried dumplings, Taiwanese beef noodle soup, the spicy cold noodle dish Tony liked and boba milk teas, because Natasha Romanov, badass spy/assassin, was obsessed with them. In fact, she was sitting across from Tony slurping away on a large cup of Boba tea. Other than the Chinese food and cups of Boba tea, the ever present fruit bowl was there, filled to the brim with apples, oranges and bananas.

 

It was then that Tony realized something was off. He felt nauseous. He glanced down at the styrofoam container filled with cold noodles in front of him and the nausea dissipated. He glanced back up to the counter and the nausea came back in full force. Glanced down, no nausea. Stared back up, nausea again. He moved his head up and down a few times, trying to make sure that it wasn’t all in his head.

 

“Uh, Tony? What are you doing?” Sam asked, eyebrows raised at Tony’s peculiar display.

 

“I keep getting nauseated whenever I look at the counter.” Tony explained, “something’s not right up here.”

 

“What do you mean?” Steve moved closer to Tony, trepidation coloring his words.

 

Tony’s eyes scanned the food on the counter. So the food wasn’t making him nauseous, but something was. As his eyes landed on the boba in Natasha’s drink, that lightheadedness he usually associated with motion sickness came back. Tony quickly averted his eyes away from it, and his gaze landed on the fruit bowl, specifically on the oranges. When he saw them, he started heaving.

 

“Ugh, somebody cover those oranges or I’m gonna throw up.” he warned.

 

Horrified at the prospect of Tony upchucking on their lunch, Sam hurriedly threw a towel on the fruit bowl. Tony breathed a sigh of relief as his nausea abated, but when he looked across the counter at Natasha, he said “Can you also cover up the bobas? I can’t look at them right now.”

 

Natasha placidly placed her hands over her plastic cup, obscuring the little orbs of tapioca away from Tony’s view. “Thanks. Now I can eat.” he said jovially, tucking in to the spicy noodle with gusto with Steve standing next to him, speechless at what just happened.

 

Okay, Steve thought,  note to self: get rid of oranges and don’t let Tony see Natasha drink boba tea.

 

This was not in any of those pregnancy books Bruce and Pepper bought Steve, but he could handle this. One of his greatest assets was adaptability. He survived waking up seventy years in the future, Tony’s pregnancy eccentricities would have nothing on him.

 

Or so he thought.

 

* * *

 

On their mutual days off, Tony and Steve always tried to spend time together, just the two of them. Some days, it would be date nights out in the City or just having a candlelit dinner up on the roof of Avengers Tower. Other times, they would spend the entire day on different day trips like exploring Brooklyn or going to different New England states. Today, however, they decided to stick close to home and go to Little Italy for lunch. Tony had a hankering for a tomato pie and Steve couldn’t say no to his mate. So they went to Lombardi’s for pizza. Steve was familiar with Lombardi’s as it was around when he had been growing up back in the 40’s. Back in the day it had been the first pizza place in New York, heck in the United States even. He and Bucky would save up their wages for a chance to buy a slice of their famous tomato pie. They would buy it during special occasions like one of their birthdays, or if Bucky got dumped by his dame of the week and needed some consolation. The price for a slice of pie back then was five cents, so nobody could blame Steve for the surprised shout that came out of his mouth when he saw that a whole pie now cost almost twenty bucks. Even after all this time in the future, inflation was still something he needed to get used to.

 

Tony took in his shock with aplomb, only patting Steve’s hand and telling him not to look at the menu and just let him order. When the waiter stopped by their table, Tony ordered their food and conversed with the waiter in flawless Italian. Steve felt a little hot under the collar as he heard his mate spoke that beloved language. By the smirk on his face, Tony knew what he was doing and what effect it has on his mate.

 

“Alright there, _tesoro_? You’re looking a little flushed.” he said charmingly, using that damn endearment that Steve liked so much.

 

“Come off it, Tony. You know what you’re doing.”

 

“Do I?” Tony grinned impishly. God, Steve loved to see him happy and carefree like this. Tony seemed to glow in the yellow fluorescent light of the restaurant. And sure, Steve knew that the whole pregnancy glow thing was just an old wives’ tale, but right here and now glowing was the only way to describe how beautiful his mate looked right now. Steve was so overcome by all the love, affection and devotion he felt for this omega. He reached for Tony’s hand and pressed a reverent kiss to the knuckles of his left hand, right where his mating band lie.

 

“I love you,” he whispered, “I love you so much, fella. Have I told you that today?”

 

It was now Tony’s turn to get flustered. He was always got so flustered whenever Steve casually mentioned how much he loves him, like he thought Steve was just humoring him and not building a life with him.

 

“Yeah, I know.” Tony coughed into his fist to hide his embarrassment. His left hand still in Steve’s hold, “I love you too.” he said quietly.

 

Steve smiled proudly. At this point, his life was pretty much perfect. In about four months, he and Tony would be welcoming a new person to their lives, a person who would be the center of their universe. This brand new life that he and Tony created together, who would be the best of Tony and him.

“What are you thinking about?” Tony jostled the hand that was still in Steve’s hold, bringing Steve back from his musings.

 

“About how lucky I am. How I never in a million years could have dreamt up something as perfect as this life I now have with you. Tony, I always thought I wouldn’t live past twenty five, but here I am now: about to embark on the most exciting journey of my life with you.”

 

“You sure know how to make an omega swoon, Steve.”

 

“Just the one.” Steve punctuated his words with a wink that earned him a fetching blush from Tony. But before he could compliment his mate, their waiter arrived with a tray filled with all the food that Tony had ordered. There were two plates of meatballs smothered in marinara sauce, a bowl of caesar salad and two large pies, one the tomato pie and the other the clam pie. They thanked the waiter after he placed all of their orders on the table and set about to load their own plates up with the food.

 

Steve was about to devour his first slice of the tomato pie when he noticed Tony not making any move to add food to his own plate. “Tony? Is something wrong?” his mate was covering his mouth with a hand, looking a little green. He looked like he was about to throw up.

 

“No, nothing’s wrong. Just...I can’t stand the sight of the meatballs.”

 

What?

 

“Uh, what?” Steve dumbly asked.

 

“The meatball, Steve! It looks so nauseating. Like, ugh!” Tony exclaimed, “It looks so-- _round_! And meaty! Get rid of it!”

 

“But you ordered it…”

 

“Ugh, I know. I thought I wanted it, but just looking at it upsets my stomach. Can we please get rid of it?”

 

“Okay, babe. I’ll take care of it.” Steve flagged down their waiter and asked him to wrap up the meatball to go. Once the meatball was out of sight, Tony looked better and was finally able to eat.

 

“This is a travesty. I’m Italian and I can’t even stand the sight of meatballs.” Tony lamented, “this baby is too Irish.” he glared at Steve.

 

Steve laughed heartily, “You can be Irish or Italian, as long as you guys are healthy.”

 

Tony pouted so prettily at his amusement and Steve just had to kiss it.

 

* * *

 

With the boba, oranges and now meatballs, it became clear that Tony now has an aversion to spherical objects. For some reason, he just couldn’t stand the sight of it. He couldn’t watch a soccer game (not that he watch too many of those games anyway) or a basketball game. Baseball games were a bit okay because the ball was too small to look at from the television screen or from the seats in the stadium, if Tony and Steve went to a baseball game for date night.

 

But oranges were out. Meatballs were out, much to Tony’s disappointment. Watermelons were purged with extreme prejudice from the tower. Natasha couldn’t drink her beloved boba milk teas in front of Tony anymore now. He couldn’t do chemistry with Bruce because a part of the distillation apparatus was spherical. And sometimes when the perspective and lighting were just right, Tony couldn’t even look at Sam or Rhodey’s shaved head on account of it resembling a sphere too much.

 

At least, Steve thought ruefully, he could still stand the sight of my face. He heard that when one of his neighbours back in the day was pregnant, the omega couldn’t stand the sight of her Alpha and he had to move back in with parents for the duration of the pregnancy. Which was all sorts of ridiculous.

 

So yes, Steve could deal with Tony’s aversion of spherical objects. It wasn’t that big of a deal. Steve was getting good at getting rid or concealing spherical shaped objects from their shared living space. Except when those objects were attached to his person.

 

One of the good things about Tony being pregnant was that their already amorous relationship became even more so. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other before, but now it became a no holds barred type of thing. Steve suspected it was because he saw the proof of his virility in Tony’s pregnancy, the proof of this beautiful, alluring omega belonging to him, carrying his child, that he was so ready to make love to Tony almost all the time. Today was no exception.

 

He had Tony laid down on their bed, his mouth kissing and sucking its way down from Tony’s lips to the juncture where his neck met shoulder, sucking a hickey to mark his mate. Tony’s moans encouraging him to go further down, to where he could make Tony strung out on pleasure. His growing abdomen proof of how strong their bond was, and how suited to each other they were. He felt Tony’s calloused engineer hands caressed his back, moving towards his chest then caressing his abdomen. His mate’s touches felt so good. Steve let out a groan as Tony’s hand started to stroke his cock. It felt so good, the warmth of Tony’s hands, he could feel the knot at the base of his cock started to flare. Steve blindly sought Tony’s mouth, kissing him deeply, taking everything Tony had to offer him. He could feel the pleasure spiking, the heat from Tony’s mouth, the wetness of his entrance, ready for the taking, until suddenly everything stopped.

Tony’s lips underneath his went slack and his hand stopped stroking Steve’s cock. Concerned, Steve opened his eyes to look down at his mate. Tony’s eyes were scrunched closed tightly, lips slightly open. He didn’t look like a man who was enjoying himself in bed with his Alpha. He look troubled.

 

“Tony? Baby, what is it?”

 

“Please don’t hate me.” Tony whispered faintly, “but I don’t think I can do this.”

 

“What? Did I do something wrong? Is it the baby?” Steve immediately rolled off Tony’s body to the side, hands cradling the precious cargo Tony was carrying in his body.

 

“No, it’s not the baby. It’s just-- It’s--” Tony stuttered out with eyes still tightly shut. Finally he released a loud gust of breath and rapidly blurting out “yourballsmakemenauseous.”

 

Steve blinked dumbly. He was pretty sure he heard Tony said his testicles made him nauseous, but that couldn’t possible right?

 

“Um, could you repeat that? And slower, please.”

 

“I said your balls make me nauseous, Steve. Ugh!” Tony rolled over on the bed, putting his back to Steve, “I can’t believe I’m getting cockblocked by this weird ass pregnancy hangup. The one good thing about being pregnant was supposed to be the increased libido!”

 

“Well, what am I supposed to do?” Steve helplessly pointed at his still very much impressive erection. “I can’t exactly hide them.”

 

“I don’t know, big guy. Maybe we can try doing it in the dark?” Tony suggested.

 

“JARVIS, can you please put the lights at ten percent?”

 

“Certainly, Captain Rogers.” the lights in the room started to dim and Tony’s technologically advanced curtains started to shutter close in tandem, extinguishing any sunlight from their room. In the darkness, the atmosphere somehow became more intimate and Steve could almost forgot what had happened before.

 

“Better?”

 

“Much.” Steve tentatively moved back towards Tony, reaching his hand out for Tony to grasp. Tony did, and they settled back down to their previous position. In this dim light, it was easy to think that they were the only two people in this world.

 

“Can we pick up where we left off?”

Tony laughed at Steve’s question, his hands caressing Steve’s face. “Of course, lover. As you were.”

 

Sinking into Tony and being one with him always felt amazing, like coming home. Like feeling every single piece that made up who he was come together in unison. Like feeling a piece of his soul that Tony carried temporarily becoming a part of him again for the time they were joined together. And if now they have to do it in the dark, then so be it. He would gladly suffer worse fate to be with Tony.

 

* * *

 

Eight months in and thankfully the spherical object aversion was over. Tony moved past that phase of the pregnancy and moved into the weird food combination cravings. Clint dubbed Tony’s food pairings as “something that _Chopped_ producers come up with when high on DMT”, but watched and frequently snapchatted Tony’s lunches and dinners to his followers, much to Tony’s annoyance.

 

(“Barton, if you don’t stop snapping me, I’m gonna put on the suit and toss you off the tower.”

 

“Please, you’re too busy stuffing your face with that bacon blue cheese sundae. You’re not gonna have enough brain power to summon the suit, much less throw me overboard.”

 

“Goddamn it.”

 

“How does it taste like?”

 

“Like Heaven.”

 

“Can I try?”

 

“Knock yourself out.”)

 

Honestly, Clint actually found himself suggesting different food pairings to Tony and if Steve was away on a short term mission, accompanying the genius on his jaunts to obscure food carts around the city when the cravings hit. It worked out well for both of them. Clint got to post viral snapchats of a pregnant Tony Stark demolishing a Halal Guys gyro platter and Tony got his gyro platter and an excuse to yell at him without actually going through with the various threats to do bodily harm to Clint’s person. Win-win solution.

 

Movie night has since become a tradition in their household. Sometimes they gathered and watched a movie, and there were times where they just gathered in the penthouse’s living room and hang out, catching up and joking with each other. That night was one of the nights where they were gathered together, no specific movie in mind that they intended to watch. But then as Bruce was flicking the channel, he stumbled on a channel playing _Wizard of Oz_ and since Thor had never watched it before and it was one of the movies that Steve actually had watched before going under, he decided to leave it at that channel.

 

Popcorn was made for all and they settled in to watch the movie. Tony and Steve took the couch as usual, Natasha sitting next to Tony with one of the popcorn bowls placed on top of Tony’s pregnant belly despite Steve’s look of disapproval. Thor and Bruce took the love seat, with Sam in one of the recliners and Clint sprawled out on the carpeted floor.

 

As the movie was played on one of the channels that still allow commercials, they had to suffer through ads every twenty minutes. Which prompted the Avengers to start pelting the TV with popcorn anytime a commercial was aired. Honestly, they were more like a bunch of toddlers than superheroes, Steve thought ruefully. He would die for them and wouldn’t trade them for the world, though.

 

The TV was playing a commercial about some product called Oxiclean, apparently it was good for removing stains from clothes and whatever else got stained on. The man they had promoting the stuff was pretty annoying in his delivery, if you asked Steve. Almost like he was forcing them to buy his product. He sighed, reaching for more popcorn on Tony’s belly, wishing for once they finally invented something that could fast forward through commercials on live TV.

 

A faint, sobbing sound started to filter in through the room. It started to get louder as the Oxiclean commercial kept playing in the background. Then Steve realized the sobbing was coming from Tony, sitting next to him with tears running down his eyes. Steve and Natasha looked at the omega sitting between them in alarm. They exchanged panicked looks, alarmed what was going on. The sound of Tony’s cries drew stares from Thor, Bruce and Sam. Clint was flat out snoring on the floor, dead to the world.

 

“Tony, baby, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

 

“I’m not crying! It’s the hormones!”

 

“You have tears streaming down your face, love. You’re crying.”

 

More sobbing. “I just-- I just can’t believe they replaced the great and talented Billy Mays with this hack! Don’t they have any respect for his memories!”

 

The sound of Sam choking on his laughter drown out Tony’s sobs. “Oh my God, this is fucking amazing!”

 

Billy Mays? Steve mouthed confusedly at Natasha. She just sighed the sigh of a person who was done with everybody’s shit and shook her head minutely.

 

Bruce was surreptitiously trying to video Tony with his phone, biting his bottom lip to hold back laughter while Thor continued to watch the TV, _Wizard of Oz_ back on the show, and single handedly demolishing the popcorn. Clint snored louder from the floor and Tony cried harder, bemoaning the insult to Billy Mays’ legacy while Sam laughed so loud he started hiccuping. Natasha was for all intents and purposes watching the TV, but from the slight quirk of her lips Steve was pretty sure all of her focus was still on Tony’s sobbing tirade against Oxiclean.

 

Steve just hugged Tony closer to him, smiling in amusement and kissed his forehead softly. His family was crazy, but at the end of the day, it was his and he couldn’t wait for their family to grow bigger.

* * *

 

The fact that Steve was a sickly child was widely known by his family. What they might not know was that he was an avid reader, because when stuck in bed for days on end reading and later drawing became Steve’s only reprieve from boredom. So he read voraciously. By the time he was twelve years old, he had read all of the books in the Brooklyn public library’s collection. Granted, it wasn’t that big of a collection in the first place, so sometimes Steve read the same books three or four times. He read biographies of presidents and world leaders, works of fictions, short stories, Shakespearean screenplays, works by Euripides, Sophocles, Homer, Virgil, Dante and others. Steve read a lot back then, and he continued that hobby even today.

 

Not to sound like the old man that Tony often accused him of being, but contemporary works paled in comparison to what he used to read. There were some that were good, but a lot of them were just not well written and full of cliche. But out of all the books Steve had read in his life he has a soft spot for one particular book: _Ulysses_ by James Joyce. When it first came out as a serial novel, it was banned and later censored in the US because of the sexual contents and later, Joyce’s literary style that sharply diverged from the conventions made the book controversial. Steve had been lucky enough to found a copy of the complete novel in a bombed out library they were taking refuge in when he was stationed in Europe along with the Howling Commandos. He read the book from cover to cover under HYDRA bombardment, laughing like a loon at the high and low brow humor Joyce liberally peppered his writing with, and becoming solemn and introspective at passages in which Leopold Bloom contemplated his life and his unfaithful mate. The vivid and descriptive languages Joyce used was fascinating to Steve. As an artist, he always had a good imagination. Reading _Ulysses_ completely transported him to Dublin, he could picture the places and the characters that Joyce described, he could feel what Bloom felt, and he could understand Molly Bloom’s perspective in the last chapter. It was an enjoyable and intense _tour de force_ of a novel and Steve loved it. It let him escape the horrors of war, let him imagine a peaceful life in Dublin, in the land of his ancestors, a land he never get to visit. It helped him hold on to sanity.  

 

Tony had somehow unearthed more of Steve’s old stuff from God knows where. That morning they had gotten a call from Pepper about a Stark Industries warehouse in upstate New York. And Howard, despite Steve’s displeasure in how he treated Tony as he was growing up, was an excellent hoarder who happened to keep Steve’s belongings from his time in the European war theater. Which happened to include his battered copy of _Ulysses_ . And today as he reread _Ulysses_ for the twelfth(?) time in his life, it became clear what to him what he and Tony should name their child.

 

He rushed down to the workshop, eager to share his epiphany with his mate. He hurriedly commanded JARVIS to open the workshop door, uncaring for his curt tone for once.

 

Tony turned around from his position at the holo-deck, manipulating what looked to be a 3D projection of Clint’s bow. Steve’s face must have looked a sight, as Tony looked alarmed at his entrance.

 

“Steve, honey, what’s wrong?”

 

Steve stepped closer to him, and rested his hand on that beloved bump. “Ulysses.”

 

“What?”

 

“The name of our son.” the OBGYN had confirmed that they were expecting a son earlier this month, “We should name our son Ulysses.”

 

“Okay...not what I was expecting, but okay.” Tony rubbed his hands up and down his arms in a soothing gesture, “Why so sudden?”

 

“I was reading it and I--”

 

“You want to name our child after a novel? That James Joyce novel nobody in the English speaking world could understand?”

 

“Yes, but it’s not that nobody couldn’t understand it, Tony. I understood it just fine.”

 

“Well yeah, but you’re you.”

 

“What does that supposed to mean?”

 

“You’re you.” Tony gestured up and down to his whole body, “you have hipster sense of humor before hipster was even a thing. You’re O.G. hipster. Of course that book with all its weird ass humor would be right up your alley.”

 

Steve furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, “Are you saying I’m weird?”

 

“Of course you’re weird, Steve. Nobody in their right mind would have volunteered for human experimentation _and_ willingly bound himself to me for the rest of their lives.”

“Tony,” Steve sighed longsufferingly, a small smile gracing his lips, “Bonding with you is the greatest pleasure in my life.”

 

“Not what we did last night?” Tony waggled his eyebrows outrageously.

 

“ _Second_ greatest pleasure.” Tony grinned happily and leaned in for a kiss Steve was more than happy to bestow.

 

“Okay, help me understand why we’re naming our kid after a novel?” Tony asked again, guiding them to sit on the couch on the far end of the workshop.

 

“This novel, it-- it’s more than something to read for me, Tony. It gave me strength to carry on in a war zone, when everything was devoid of hope. Just for awhile, when I’m reading this book, I get to imagine I wasn’t in some bombed out church in Northern France or Germany. For a time, I get to imagine I’m in Dublin, living peacefully with nothing to worry about. And I’d like to think it led me to you. I would have given up after Bucky’s death and after I woke up in that fake room SHIELD built for me, but then I remembered a passage in it that said,” Steve gestured at the battered book in his hand, “‘ _Can’t bring back time. Like holding water in your hand_ ’. Sure I can mourn for what I’ve lost, what has passed before me, but you can’t turn back time. So, you look forward to the future. And this is my future. You and our baby boy.”

 

Tony squeezed his hand gently, his eyes gazing at Steve’s soft and understanding. “Technically, I _could_ make a time machine. It’s just a matter of ethics and not messing around with space-time continuum that stopped me from doing it,” Steve chuckled, “That and I’m too selfish for your own good. You’re mine now and I’m not letting you go.”

 

Steve pressed a chaste kiss on Tony’s lips. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, Tony. If I have to go through everything again, I wouldn’t hesitate if I get to have you and our family in the end.”

 

Tony leaned closer to him, resting his body on Steve’s, that precious bump cuddled close to Steve’s side. “Okay. Ulysses it is. Ulysses James Rogers. God, this baby is gonna be the most Irish baby to ever irished in New York City.”

 

“Ulysses James Stark Rogers.” Steve corrected, softly kissing Tony’s forehead. Tony lifted his head up, a mischievous smile on his lips. “We’ll go your way this time, Rogers. But I reserve the right to name the next kid _Citizen Kane_.”

 

“Sure, Tony.” _Next kid._ Steve was looking forward to it.

* * *

 

Ulysses James Stark Rogers came in to the world on Saint Patrick’s Day, further cementing his reputation as the most Irish baby ever irished in New York City. The entire week Tony had been experiencing contractions that he brushed off as Braxton-Hicks contractions and declined a trip to the hospital, despite Steve’s insistence. Steve went to mass that morning, silently despairing the fact that in this era the Feast of Saint Patrick was more synonymous with copious alcohol consumption than a religious celebration of Ireland’s patron saint. Oh well, he was pretty sure Bucky would be happy with this type of observance than the usual trip to church to attend mass.

 

When he got home, Clint, Thor and Sam were in the middle of throwing a party in the penthouse common room. They managed to obtain green beers and judging by the mugs around the room, they had been at it for awhile. And it’s not even 12 PM yet…

 

Tony, Bruce and Natasha were also there, eating brunch. Tony was still dressed in his workout clothes, a soft t-shirt and pair of yoga pants that framed his luscious bottom. Steve was torn between making him change so no one else could get a glimpse of his omega’s assets and wanting Tony to keep it on so he could keep staring at them. Tony knew that, that little tease, the smirk he flashed Steve as he sat down next to him on the kitchen counter told him as much.

 

“Hey babe, how was mass? Did you pray for us all?” Tony asked him teasingly, lifting up a champagne glass filled with orange juice for him to drink.

 

“No point in praying for Thor. He’s already a god.” Steve smiled at his mate, taking the proffered orange juice. Tony, Natasha and Bruce were eating eggs benedict, no doubt cooked by their resident chef Bruce Banner himself. He took a bite out of Tony’s ham, relishing in the salty and fatty taste of the ham mixed with the egg yolk.

 

“Steve, join us! We’ve got green beer!” Thor looped his burly arms around his neck, beckoning him to their side of the room where they were drinking green beer and Guinness.

 

“I guess I could go for a Guinness.” he said, and followed Thor to the other side of the common room. Other than the beers, there was also a bottle of Baileys and Dubliner. “You guys are really going in hard with the Irish theme.”

 

“Everyone’s Irish today, Steve. Not just you.” Clint helpfully pointed out, his words slurred. He looked ridiculous in a green t-shirt depicting the Leprechaun from the Lucky Charms cereal and wearing a sparkling green top hat.

 

“He’s been running around the lobby telling people to kiss him because he’s Irish.” Natasha offered from her perch on the stool, “I had to drag him back upstairs before somebody filed a restraining order against him.”

 

Steve ended up drinking with them for a bit, after Sam told him he had to try a new way to drink Guinness by adding a shot of Baileys to his beer. It was actually pretty good and he ended up demolishing a whole six pack by himself. Tony kept making moon eyes at his drink, but Steve steered him clear by refilling his champagne glass with more orange juice so he didn’t feel left out. The “party” petered out after awhile. Clint ended up laying down on the floor (I’m just taking a break, Tasha) and Sam left for his floor to sober up and go to another party thrown by a buddy of his from the Air Force.

 

Tony got up from the couch to fetch himself something to drink. All the sugar from the orange juice was making him thirsty. As he walked to the kitchen, he could feel something in him shift. Dismissing it as gas (he’d been having a lot of those lately thanks to Ulysses) he continued his trek to the kitchen when a popping sound stopped him in his tracks followed by what could only be described as a waterfall of amniotic fluid gushing out of his nether regions.

 

Everyone in the room looked alarmingly in his direction. Steve looked shocked, his grip on his beer glass loosening. Natasha was blinking silently, processing what happened. Bruce seemed to be the only one alert and was moving to grab his cellphone.

 

“Huh.” Thor tilted his head to the side, not unlike a confused puppy, “Tony, did you just wet yourself?”

 

“Guys, I think my water just broke.” Tony dumbly said, looking down at the puddle at his feet.

 

“Don’t worry, Tones, we’ll get you another one.” Clint chimed in from the floor.

 

Clint’s words seemed to shook Steve out of his stupor, as he vaulted over the couch to Tony and started to hysterically fuss over him. “Tony! Your water just broke! Oh my God, should we go to the hospital? What do we do?!”

 

Tony’s mate was more calm facing down a hoard of Chitauri army descending on Manhattan. His panicked expression and dilated pupils indication of an adrenaline rush coursing through his veins at the moment. As second in command of the Avengers, Tony needed to take charge of the situation.

 

“Okay, Steve, calm down. You remember the go-bag you packed way, way, way back in the day? You need to grab that and meet me back here, okay? We need to go to the hospital.” Steve ran to the nursery where he stored the go-bag filled with the necessary items for the major event of Tony delivering the baby, “JARVIS, call Happy would you? Tell him we’ve got an emergency. And while you’re at it, call Dr. Rosenberg. We’re finally gonna meet Mini Cap today. Also somebody needs to mop the floor. Soon.”

 

“At once, Sir.”

 

The trip to the garage where Happy was waiting for them was full of panicked shouts and various Avengers rushing around like a chicken with its head cut off. Steve was carrying Tony to the car, with Bruce on their heels carrying their go-bag along with Natasha and Thor. happy was there waiting for them in one of Tony’s Rolls Royce, wringing his hands in nervousness.

 

“Hey Boss, how are you doing?”

 

“Just peachy, Happy. I’m about to birth a human being soon. Let Pepper and Rhodey know, would you?”

 

“Got it, Boss.”

 

“Let’s go, please, Happy.” Steve implored as he placed Tony securely in the backseat of the Rolls and getting in.

 

“Good luck, guys! We’ll come by later.” Bruce’s voice send them off as they drove away to the hospital.

 

“Everything’s gonna be okay, Tony. Everything’s gonna be okay. We’ll be okay.” Steve reassured Tony, still with a panicked look on his face and still unable to absorb the fact that their child was coming soon.

 

“I know, babe. I’m the one in labor here,” Tony told him, “also, can you stop squeezing my hand, honey? It hurts.”

 

“Oh. Sorry.”

 

Twelve hours later, on March 17th at 11 PM at night, Ulysses James Stark Rogers entered the world with a loud cry and Saint Patrick’s Day celebrants out in the streets of New York City unknowingly celebrating his birth along with his parents and uncles and aunts.

 

When they placed him in Tony’s arms, Tony was unprepared by the onslaught of emotion washing over him. He knew he loved Steve, loved him with all his heart, all his being, but the love he felt for this little boy in his arms was beyond encompassing. Tony would die for him, give away his fortune, give up everything just to keep him safe, happy and fulfilled. The moment he saw those cloudy blue eyes, so much like Steve’s, gazed blearily at his own brown eyes, he knew that Ulysses belonged with him, and there’s nothing in the world he wouldn’t do for this little boy’s happiness. When he glanced up at Steve, he saw that same love reflected back in Steve’s eyes. His blue eyes was filled with unshed tears, and Tony noticed he was trembling a little bit.

 

“Steve, Steve, honey, come here.” he beckoned him. Steve wasted no time, crowding up the side of Tony’s hospital bed, enveloping them in his embrace. He scented his child, and felt Steve did the same, then felt a kiss pressed to his forehead. Steve’s eyes were closed, immersing himself in the combined scent of his child and his mate. At this moment, Steve felt complete. Every missing pieces he used to feel disappeared, leaving only the happiness and love he felt being with Tony and Ulysses.

“I love you. I love you so much. Thank you, Tony. Thank you for making my dreams come true.”

 

Tony smiled back at him, eyes full with unshed tears. “I love you, too.”

 

In that moment, under the cold fluorescent light of the operating room, Steve’s whole universe was complete. The centers of his universe safe and sound in his warm embrace. Forever in his arms.

 

Joyce said that the “longest way round is the shortest way home”. Steve was finally home.  

 

* * *

  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! :)


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